


Choose Your Battles

by starswholisten



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Winter Solstice fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starswholisten/pseuds/starswholisten
Summary: Cassian raised his eyebrows as he pulled his gaze from the package she held and pointed at himself. “For me?"“No, for the other Cassian,” Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, for you.”Some Nessian holiday fluff.





	

Honestly, Nesta had expected her first Winter Solstice as a Fae to be much the same as the ones they’d celebrated as humans. At least, something like the ones before the Archeron family had lost their fortune - they hadn’t celebrated since moving to the hovel, and hadn’t bothered last year. Not without Feyre. It had felt wrong, somehow, to celebrate her birthday when for all they knew, she was dead.

Nesta figured there would be gift giving, half-hearted mumbled thank-yous, and an elaborate, silent meal. That’s how it had been all her life, and she knew nothing else.

But Winter Solstice in the Night Court was… different.

They started the festivities after sundown, unsurprisingly, but it had taken half the day just to ready herself for the evening. Mor had been more than happy to help with all the Archeron sisters’ outfits, and Nuala and Cerridwen spread themselves thin to do all of their hair. The girls had exchanged gifts just before leaving for the party and had given Feyre a small cake to start off her birthday celebration with. Nesta didn’t want to admit it, but she was rather fond of the red Night Court style blouse Mor had given her.

Afterward, they’d all headed to the House of Wind. Mor opted to take the stairs, refusing to force any of them to walk on their first Solstice, and had left the Illyrians to take each of the sisters (much to Azriel’s dismay, Nesta noted). Rhysand scooped Feyre into the sky without a blink, leaving Azriel to take Elain and Cassian to take Nesta.

It may have been all of thirty seconds in his arms, alone with him, but Nesta could not shake the chills from her body for long after.

They were… well, she didn’t know. Cassian and Nesta fought like children, bickered and argued and screamed at the top of their lungs. Most of the time, no one wanted to be in the room as the two of them at the same time. But for all she was yelling in those moments, Nesta felt far less hostile and much more… awake. Alive. She couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly, but months of antagonizing each other ended up healing both of them of the scars of the war, the pain of broken wings and the loss of humanity.

Nesta enjoyed the party, much to Feyre’s delight, and felt lighter for the first time in a while. The entire Inner Circle was there, and they sat down to a simple but delicious dinner, chatting and joking and acting like a real family. She almost allowed the moment to taste bitter in her mouth - bitter for all the times she should have had this, but did not - but Nesta had learned to choose her battles during all these months at war.

And maybe that was why she was now standing idly on the balcony, holding the package she had wrapped so carefully and hidden under her bed.

Nesta had found his gift weeks ago. Stumbled upon it, really. She didn’t even know if she intended on giving him anything, but this was too perfect to pass up. But now… now, she was dawdling, choking on her own pride, wondering if he would find her weak for caving and doing something nice. Nesta growled quietly to herself in frustration.

“Aren’t you cold up here, sweetheart?"

She jumped when Cassian spoke, whirling around and hiding the package behind her back as she faced him. He was smirking, as always, leaning against the entryway to the balcony.

And he was holding a package, too.

Her face went red when she saw it. “You of all people should know, I’m always cold,” she deadpanned with much effort. It was easier, she found, to meet his eyes than to gaze at the present in his hand.

“Really,” he drawled, pushing off of the doorway and stalking toward her. “Is that why you’re hiding a gift behind your back?"

Stiffening, Nesta bit her lip and looked up momentarily, huffing in defeat. Having nothing to say in response, she brought the package in front of her for him to see, and shrugged. He looked down at it and read the label with his name on it.

Cassian raised his eyebrows as he pulled his gaze from the package she held and pointed at himself. “For me?"

“No, for the other Cassian,” Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, for you.”

He grinned at her, and stepped closer. “So, this is what nice Nesta looks like."

“Don’t get used to it,” she kicked his shin. “Are you going to give me that any time soon?” Nesta asked, gesturing to the package he was holding.

He chuckled. “So demanding."

“You like it,” Nesta replied without thinking. Cassian’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he widened that shit-eating grin, and the way her heart flipped made Nesta decide that now was not the time to choose to battle. “Give it to me."

He handed it to her without another word, and she passed him his. Their eyes stayed locked, so Nesta was a bit taken aback when he pressed the package into her outstretched hands and it weighed far more than she expected.

“What is this, lead weights?” Nesta blurted, stumbling back a step.

Cassian only laughed as he began to rip open his paper without ceremony. “You’ll see, sweetheart."

Suddenly, Nesta was nervous. What if he didn’t like what she had gotten him? And then she was wondering why she even cared. But… she did. She had always loved gift giving, to the surprise of pretty much anyone who had ever known her, but it had always been one way to express her gratitude to the people she loved without much fanfare. It was expected of her, so no one questioned the kindness, but she secretly loved it when someone really enjoyed one of her gifts.

Tossing the paper to the ground, Cassian opened the box within and just… stared.

“It’s, um,” Nesta stammered, feeling like an idiot. “It’s a new pair of leathers. Not all black, like you usually wear. Mostly black. But when they hit the light, you can see there’s some red in there. I thought it would look nice with your Siphons. And your wings, since there’s some red in them…” She trailed off as a smile spread across his face.

“I’ve actually been eying these for a while now. When they were gone a few weeks ago, I thought Mor or Rhys had bought them for me for Solstice but…” Cassian looked up at her, his eyes shining, and Nesta felt her pulse increase. “It was you,” he finished.

Nesta nodded. “They reminded me of you."

Cassian looked like he was going to burst out of his skin, or into flames. He stepped forward, placing the leathers on the small table beside them. This close, Nesta could hardly pay attention to anything but his scent, and she internally screamed at herself to step back, away from it, away from him, away from what she feared the most. But her heart said, _choose your battles_ , so she didn’t move.

He reached out, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you,” he breathed, kissing her on the cheek. It sent a spark up Nesta’s spine, and she checked to make sure her magic was locked down lest she set the balcony on fire. “Now open yours,” he added quietly.

Nesta did step back then, only to see the gift in her hands as she began to rip the paper. She revealed a long, decorated box, engraved with Illyrian markings, and she looked up at Cassian. “Open it,” he told her. She did.

Inside was a blade - and Illyrian blade - silver and shining and sharpened to perfection. The hilt was gold with more Illyrian markings engraved within, tinted the most subtle shade of blue-grey. A flaming design was subtly inscribed into the blade, and a stone was embedded in the center of the hilt, also blue-grey. Her initials were carved on the inside of the box.

It was… beautiful. Nesta couldn’t do anything but stare at it.

She had seen Cassian give the rest of his friends their fair share of stupid or backhanded gifts that day. He’d given Rhys and Azriel each several gag gifts that had them all howling. He’d presented Mor with a bracelet that had a jewel that looked far too similar to Azriel’s siphons, leaving her red in the face and Az none the wiser. He’d even given Amren a shirt that said “I Heart Illyrian Wingspans”, which she had promptly burned.

But this… this was thoughtful. Personal. Nesta didn’t want to think about what that implied.

“Do you like it?” he broke the silence. Nesta realized he was probably as nervous, if not more nervous, than she had been. “I had it personalized. I thought it was about time you had your own blade, one that you can name and make your own. A real blade for a real warrior.” She managed to look up then. Yes, he was definitely nervous.

Setting the blade down reluctantly, Nesta stared at him for a few more moments before closing the gap between them and wrapping her arms around Cassian in a tight hug. He stiffened for a second before responding, wrapping both his arms and wings around them. “I guess this means you like it,” he said into her hair.

She couldn’t help the smile that she pressed into his chest. “Yes, I like it, you prick,” Nesta snapped half-heartedly. His scent was intoxicating her, and she couldn’t think straight. “It’s… it’s perfect. Thank you."

Cassian pulled back, hands not leaving her shoulders. She expected a snide comment, sarcasm, anything to come out on top of this interaction, this war of dominance they consistently maneuvered. But he simply kissed her forehead and said, “You’re welcome, sweetheart."

Maybe he was learning to choose his battles too.


End file.
